Persuasive
by Qindarka
Summary: Well that's one way of getting things done... Persuasion, thy name is Pietro. SLASH st.john/pietro--pyro/quicksilver


**the perhaps, ahem, "climax", or what have you, of this may or may not be similar to that of _With a Sinful Eye_ and that's probably because I'm not creative enough haha. or I just love writing seductive Pietro clinging to a guy like he's climbing a tree, idk.**

**also I'm posting this because I'm procrastinating on homework**

**ps write fic for this shiiip~ :D**

**- **

Remy had admittedly seen a lot of strange things in his life. To justify such a fact, he often reasoned, "what can I say? I'm from New Orleans" which somehow proved, by his own definition, that'd he'd seen a book shelf--no, a lifetime of weird. According to him, there wasn't anything new or surprising you could throw at him.

And then he saw John whistling through the base with a basket of dirty clothes.

Needless to say, not only was such a sight officially branded as the weirdest thing Remy had ever seen, it created for itself an entirely _new_ category of strange that nothing Remy had ever seen before could touch.

"Er, say,"' he had stuttered after getting over his initial shock, "uh... What've you, uh... got there, John?"

The minute the words flew out of the Cajun's mouth, Pyro abruptly halted his bouncy gait, face contorting to that of honest confusion as he pondered the question. The sincere curiosity he wore as he glanced at the object in hands suggested he himself had no idea how it got there, let alone what it was.

"Emm..." he hummed after careful observation, "I think they're Pietro's clothes, but I'm not entirely sure." And as if the blatant way John said it wasn't enough, Remy watched in genuine shock as Pyro shrugged off the momentary issue and continued his brisk pace in the direction of wherever he had been going.

Remy almost fell out his chair stumbling and rushing forward to meet his teammate. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait just a second, mon ami. Slow down and tell me that again."

John blinked, initially expecting to be reprimanded for something _again_. "I....think they're Pietro's clothes?"

This was unfortunate news to Remy, as he had, in fact, heard him right the first time. "....would you mind enlightening me as to _why_ you're walking around with a basket of what you think is Pietro's dirty laundry?"

"Well, he asked me to do it for him, of course," Pyro replied casually, as if that was the most obvious thing in the universe, which, for Gambit, it apparently wasn't.

"He...asked you."

"Yup!"

By this point, Remy was less convinced that he was going deaf and more convinced that John was insane. More so than usual, anyway.

"....and you complied to this request _because...?"_

_"_I... I don't..."

"He black-mailing you? Need I remind you that his mutant power enhances his cowardice and_ yours_ gives you the leverage of inflicting pain?"

"What?! _No_, he's not black-mailing me... I'm not that easy!"

Gambit frowned, now lost for options. "Then what is it?" he demanded.

At once, John's face became very stern and he immediately got defensive, as if blamed for a crime he hadn't committed. "Well, you wouldn't have said no either, if you were in my position!"

"Try me."

Pyro shook his head as if to rid himself of Remy and the whole silly situation altogether. "Look, I don't have time for this," he mumbled, toting his possession once more in the direction he had been stalking in.

Realization dawned on the mutant as he watched the other attempt to escape, and Gambit placed a hand on his own hip, grinning slyly. "Since when did you become such a pushover?"

Pyro, his eyes burning and his lips set in a sneer, whirled around so suddenly at this, his basket was in danger of loosening from his fingertips and careening to the floor. "Am not!"

"Then you're whipped, or something..."

"What the bloody-- Of course not!"

Gambit was suddenly overcome with an intense desire to test his teammate, and his grin widened steadily. "Then forget about that brat's dirty clothes."

A sigh issued from the other boy, and he hesitated, his facial expression betraying the conviction of his tone. "Well..."

Before another word made it out of him, however, as if on cue, the wind around them whistled and whipped ferociously in a white blur. It didn't take a genius to figure out who _that _was before an impatient-looking Pietro came to a shrieking halt beside them, his arms filled with what looked like several pairs of jeans.

He and Gambit exchanged a suspicious look of acknowledgment for a brief quarter of a second.

"Hey, Allerdyce," Pietro said suddenly, eyes snapping to John as he remembered he was there. His expression held little regard, more presumptuous than anything.

(With a small smile, Gambit quickly took note of the both eager and fearful look on Pyro's face as he was called to attention. It made the situation all the more amusing. )

"I forgot these!" continued Pietro, dumping the clothes from his hands into John's laundry basket, the force and weight of which caused John to lurch forward unexpectedly. "You're lucky I found you before you started the first load, eh?" He smirked wryly, leaning in and wrinkling his nose as he did so.

John swallowed loudly.

Without giving him a chance to say anything further, however, Pietro spun quickly on his heels (with an emphasis on _quickly_) and began a moderate stroll in the direction he had came in.

"Thanks again, _mate_!" Pietro called behind him, waving with a quick flick of his wrist.

And things were just getting _weirder_ because not a peep had come out of John the entire time. This was the most quiet Gambit had ever seen his friend, which is saying something because usually Gambit had a hell of a time _ever_ getting him to shut up. It couldn't be that his mouth wasn't working--his lips were _gaping_ at the moment.

Remy threw the Australian a look that was at first utterly confused but quickly averted it to something more stern. "What was that?"

The sound of his voice seemed to startle the blond back to earth. He blinked quickly. "I... I don't know what you..."

"Don't be stupid with Gambit. Boy, what is the matter with you? You used to be a raving lunatic, now you're like a flushed little school girl! Get your ass over there and tell that little prick that you're _not_ his maid."

Pyro registered the words thoughtfully, glancing quickly between the object in his hands, Remy's face, and Pietro's retreating form. Gambit nodded approvingly when he defiantly dropped the basket to the ground with a thud that reverberated off the sides of their hollowed base. It caught Pietro's attention before he had a chance to turn the corner, and the mutant spun around at a speed faster than _usual_.

The boy scowled. "Ay, Allerdyce, watch the clothes! I said to get them washed, not _more dirty_, or is that too hard for you?"

"I... Pietro," John started in a small voice. He glanced at Gambit, who gave him a cheeky thumbs-up. "I... I'm not gonna do... your laundry."

Pietro stopped--which was a sure sign that the gears in his brain, usually whirring out of control, had flown off their cogs--and narrowed his eyes. The glare he suddenly gave them startled both Pyro _and_ Gambit. "Wanna run that by me again?"

Pyro looked fearfully at Gambit once again and probably would have asked to hold his hand for moral support if that sort of thing had been okay with _anyone _present. "I'm not doing your laundry, mate. That's just... degrading."

"You heard him," Gambit suddenly put in, his voice much stronger than Pyro's had been. "So get lost, hm?"

The glare Pietro then averted to him was so menacing and deadly that it immediately reminded Gambit that this guy and Magneto were related. Quicksilver considered the Cajun for a quick second, decided he wasn't worth the trouble, then, with the smooth swiftness he is so guilty of, simultaneous gazed at John and slid a deceptively _innocent_ lip-bitting smile onto his lips.

Remy sure as hell didn't see that coming.

Pietro sauntered forward slowly, catlike, in John's direction, and Gambit watched as his friend's fists clenched uncomfortably at his sides. Pyro was _frozen_, as silly as that sounds, with his feet rooted to the ground and motionless while Pietro stalked toward him like a lion would to its prey. Pietro got close, extremely close, with a half an inch between their two chests. Gambit noticed how much taller John was in comparison, as well as his trembling lips and worried eyes.

And, as if John carrying around laundry or not acting loony for a day wasn't weird enough for Remy, Pietro suddenly leaned forward, pressed deftly up against John, snaked his lanky arms along his chest and behind his neck, and gazed up at Pyro's eyes with all the seduction the boy could muster. And worse still, John was _responding accordingly_. His knees quivered, as if on the verge of buckling, and his fingers again twitched with the need to grab _something_.

Gambit could not believe what he was seeing, and yet couldn't look away, like some horrible car accident.

"_John_..." Pietro whispered, as if to keep Gambit far from the conversation. It didn't help much--the Cajun could hear the _need_ dripping from the boy's tone. Quicksilver's fingers went to the hair at the nape of John's neck, running through them slowly and sensually as he continued to speak. "I'd... _really_ appreciate it if you could do this favor for me..."

"I.. I..." John mumbled, less to really say something, more to exert noise in a way that _wasn't _a moan. His eyes glazed over, as if hardly capable of thought. His arms could no longer resist, and. without control, they began slowly drifting their way to wrap around Pietro's hips.

Pietro somehow managed to press even closer against John, melting against him and pulling his face closer to his own. His lips ghosted over Pyro's as the other mutant let out a shaky breath, and their locked gazes continued their heavy, searching stare.

"And you know I'd do it myself but... you don't mind, do you?" Pietro said. His hips thrust forward gently and John groaned.

"N-no, 'course not, m-mate..."

"Cuz, y'know John..." Pietro continued, his lips moving lightly against the other's as he spoke, "the faster that gets done, the sooner you and I can move onto _other things_..." A blush rose heavy on not only John's face, but Pietro's too, and it was obvious that Pietro's plan had backfired and they were now both suffering from the same thing. "Remember what I promised you earlier? The deal still stands, baby..." Pietro's face suddenly disappeared behind Pyro's cheek, and Remy could only assume he was whispering something in his ear. John's look of exhilaration (eyes sliding shut, lip bit) was not exactly helpful in determining what was going on back there. If he was a dog, his tail would have been wagging.

Pietro's head retreated back to its previous spot momentarily, lips grinning with pleasure and the desire to laugh as he observed what effect his words had had on John. "So, deal, then?"

John chuckled behind his lips. "Mmhmhm, deal..."

"_Spectacular_." With grace and precision, Pietro closed what little nonexistent distance there was between him and John, sliding their lips together in a kiss. Pyro kissed back eagerly like his mouth had been waiting the whole damn time for such a thing. Their movements were slow and deliberate for a second, then rough and demanding for another. The moment a noise sounded between the two (from whom it could not be defined), Pietro pulled away, sooner than either, it seemed, would have liked. He gradually undid his arms from around Pyro, and had to pry the other mutant's arms from his waist with a grin.

"See you in an hour?" he asked before he left, looking genuinely willing to forgo Pyro's end of the deal and get his through with right now.

"Make it a half."

The response pleased Pietro immensely, his eyes lighting up expectantly.

Gambit had figured they had forgotten he was there (he couldn't blame them or expect otherwise), but Pietro surprised him by shooting him a final and deliberate coy look, as if to say, "I win again." Then, in a flash, he was gone.

There was a long moment of silence between the remaining men, a silence that appeared only awkward for Remy. John was staring transfixed in Pietro's wake, a goofy little smile still plastered on his face.

"...Well," Remy said, not knowing what else to say. John straightened up immediately, as if snapped awake from a trance. He glanced at Gambit, looking sheepish and redder than his hair.

Remy placed a hand on his hip, shaking his head. "And you said you weren't easy, you dirty old bastard."

John said nothing at first, though the grin on his face had grown so wide it looked painful for him to smile. He bent over, picked up Pietro's laundry basket, and began his walk from earlier. Gambit followed.

"What can I say, mate," John said suddenly, looking at his teammate over his shoulder. "Pietro is very persuasive."


End file.
